


The Trickster Demon

by Mystery_Lady



Series: Bichie AUs [6]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bendy!Richie, Bill Is Richie's Creator, But If I Ever Decide To Continue It, Creepy, Gen, Henry!Bill, I Tried To Make It As Creepy Or Unsettling As Possible, I guess..., IT x Bendy and The Ink Machine Crossover, Loosely Based on Bendy and the Ink Machine, M/M, Pre-Slash, Since There's Hardly Any Bichie In It, Then There Would Have Been More, well more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystery_Lady/pseuds/Mystery_Lady
Summary: Bill has been requested by his old, ex boss to come and visit the studio in which he worked in his late high school years. Curious as to know why Robert wanted to see him and possibly see his old creations from his teenage years, Bill decides to head over.But when he gets there, he is quite shocked to see the state of his old job.What exactly happened? Where is Robert? And why does he feel like he's being watched?





	The Trickster Demon

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that I had to write that is loosely based on the video game “Bendy and the Ink Machine”. And I say loosely because despite the fact that it has Bendy and the Ink Machine elements in it, the one-shot/fic would have Bichie in it (if I actually decide to continue it) and it doesn’t really follow the same plot to be honest. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like it. ^_^;
> 
> The moodboard is mine.

 

* * *

 

Bill walks inside the room cautiously, sidestepping a few miscellaneous items that were scattered across the filthy and worn wooded floor as he looks around uneasily; still curious despite the fact that his gut screams for him to _run, run, and never look back_ as he walks further inside the huge building.  

Where could Robert be? Ever since he stepped foot inside this dilapidated and abandoned studio, he has not seen or heard any signs of his old boss.

Something dark had caught his attention, making him turn his head quickly to look.

There was absolutely nothing. Nothing but a cutout of one of his characters that he had created a long time ago and had given Robert permission to use it for a future show that they had planned together.

Smiling, Bill turns to look at his old but loved character. He remembers fondly when he first created Richie…

He was starting high school - trying different methods to distract himself from a difficult moment in his life - when he created his first “human” character.

Richie was a tall, gangly youth with dark curls, mischievous but sharp brown eyes, a spatter of freckles spreading from the bridge of his nose - which a pair of thick, bottle coke glasses rested on his nose - to his cheekbones, a cheeky grin, and skin as pale as the fresh fallen snow.

He would have looked almost normal if it wasn’t for the black, twisted goat horns that protruded from his curls and the thin, pointy tail. 

To soften his looks, Bill had decided to draw him with colorful yet ridiculous Hawaiian T-shirts and simple black or blue shorts; giving him an endearing and silly look to him.

Richie was his first creation and his baby. Bill had - and still does - loved him so much and it had been difficult for him to hand over his treasured creation to Robert, along with his other characters Stan and Beverly…

As Bill shakes away the depressing thoughts, he looks up to stare at the old cutout only to blink in surprise.

The cutout wasn’t there…

Nervous, Bill looks away from the spot only to freeze, hardly daring to breathe as something lean, tall, and utterly black appeared a few feet away, standing completely still.

Bill peers at the black form apprehensively, trying to make out what exactly he was looking at.

The figure was hunched over, its body unnaturally thin and seemingly fragile looking with arms too long for its body and one leg - the left - twisted, the knee and the foot facing backward as black muck seem to be either stuck to its skin or spilling down its body and landing on the dirty floor. 

Bill trembles as he hears soft growls and grunts, head turning side to side idly, as if looking around the room it was standing in as Bill belatedly realized that the black substance on its face covered its eyes and its nose.

As Bill continues to look at it, he realized three things: It had a shirt on, a shirt that had been ripped open and was exposing its bared chest ~~he could count the bones of its ribcage~~ and the remains of its shirt hanged into its biceps. 

The second thing was that the shirt looked oddly familiar, the patterns unforgettable even if the shirt was no longer a pristine white and the palm trees were no longer blue. If was as if all the colors had been washed out…

And the third…That wasn’t mud or filth.

That was **_ink_**!

Eyes wide with disbelieving horror, Bill could hear nothing else but the pounding of his rapid, beating heart and the sounds of the creature that stood away from him in blissful ignorance.

Before his brain could register, Bill utters a soft, pained, and barely heard, “Richie…?”

The creature snapped its head towards his direction

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read it. Kudos and Comments are always appreciated. ^_^


End file.
